When Andromeda had thought about how she'd die, she didn't think this is how she'd go. She'd always imagined she'd get taken out while flying. She had wanted to die piloting a ship. She had actually thought she'd die in some big event. Like, the only way to save everyone else on the ship was to kamikazee into their attackers.

Not like this. Not with everyone else on the ship already dead.

There was no reason to try and be a hero now, so why was she still fighting? Beaten and bloody, she was still getting back up every time she got knocked back down. There was no one to save. There was no one to fight for but herself, and was she really worth the effort right now? She was tired and there was a ringing in her head that she wasn't certain would ever go away. Why was he taking so long to kill her? Was this a game to him? Was he getting some sort of sick enjoyment out of watching her squirm?

Taking a deep, shakey breath, Andi pushed herself up onto her knees and elbows, coughing up blood on the floor as she struggled with her own weight.

She heard the man chuckle above her though she couldn't seem him through the curtains of blonde hair, matted with her own blood, that fell around her face. "Why don't you stay down," he said, lifting his boot under her and raising it sharply and squarely in the stomach. "Bitch," he spat when his foot connected with her soft midsection.

Crying out, she fell onto her side and cradled herself in the fetal position. Through tear filled eyes, she could make out the tall form of the man who had hijacked the ship she had been working on for the past two years. She thought she had been safe. She was careful not to use her real name or to spend much, if any time, off the vessel. She never spoke to anyone but her crew. She had been careful to not use any of her neurogenic abilities ever. And yet here she was. Sniveling in a pile on the cargo hold floor with a strange man standing above her and beating the shit out of her. She had tried to fight back. She had attempted to use her neurogenics on him but he had to have been a neuro himself. Or else he'd been warmed of her abilities, because nothing she tried worked on him.

The man turned from Andi, still laying on the floor on her side, and walked over to the lifeless body of the pilot. With a foot, he rolled the man over onto his back and began digging in his pockets, pulling out whatever he found and studying it for a moment. As he sifted through the dead man's belongings, Andi found herself uncurling and attempting to prop herself up on one elbow. He had his back to her, so she took this opportunity to attempt another attack.

Reaching the hand that wasn't holding her up out, she lifted a heavy wrench from a nearby toolbox using her telekinetic abilities and flung it at the back of his head.

Without even turning around, he lifted a hand and brushed the wrench off course. Slowly, he began to click his tongue and shake his head. "Now, now, now, Andi... or is it Vera?" He shook his head after that question, "Doesn't matter. Why would you go and do something like that? You know that's just going to upset me," he said slowly, still taking his time to dig around in the pilot's pockets.

By this time, Andi had managed to shift into a sitting position. Her legs were stretched out in front of her with her knees bent at a forty-five degree angle. She rested her arms on them and stared at the man from under heavy, and bloody, lids. "Because you were expecting it," she said before spitting the blood that was in her mouth out onto the floor between her legs.

The man stood back up and turned around to face her, shrugging his shoulders as he did. "Yeah, you're right, I was. You're not very good at this fighting stuff are you? Not without your neurogenics at least," he said, taking his time to walk back to where she was.

One. Two. Three. she counted his steps, her gaze now focused intently on the ground between her feet. She could still see his form in her periphreal and every time she heard one of his feet hit the floor, she added another number.



"Six," she said aloud, flicking her gaze quickly up at wrench she'd thrown early. Locked on it, she focused all her mental strength on bringing it back to her, quickly scraping it along the floor. It came up behind the man before he even knew what she was doing and she lifted it from the ground to knock him in the back of the knees. This caused him to fall forward onto her. Rolling onto her back, she caught him with her feet and flipped him over her. She watched as he sailed in the air for a bit before landing with a thud on his back.

She didn't waste any time once he was down. She rolled onto her stomach and crawled on top of him, placing her knees on his shoulder joint and pressing her weight into them. He reached for her legs and screamed in pain as she moved all her weight onto him. Reaching back, she punched him first with her right fist and then with her left, recalling exactly what Artyom had taught her about hand-to-hand combat at the academy.

Arty. She paused in her assault as the name popped into her head. Fight for him.

The assassin took her pause as an opportunity to get her off of him and grabbed her by the waste, pushing her to the side with all the strength he had. She was sure that there would have been more force behind his action had she not just been pressing into his scapula with her knee.

Tucking her arm into herself, she rolled across the floor into some crates filled various supplies. They had been in transit to Antilla to make a delivery when this asshole showed up. Once she stopped rolling, Andi quickly scrambled to her feet and jumped up on the crate as the man hurtled himself at her. He hit the crate with a crack and reached for her where she stood on top of it. Jumping in place, she slammed her feet back down and right on his forearm. He snarled at her in pain and yanked himself free from her weight, trying to knock her off balance at the same time.

But Andi was a step a head of him and climbing up the crates that surrounded her. She chanced a glance over her shoulder at him to see what he was doing. Good, she thought as she saw him scrambling up the boxes behind her. Try and catch me.

She climbed as high as she could and walked to the edge of the row of boxes she stood atop, waiting for him. After a moment he pulled himself up to the top as well and stood opposite her, glancing around him nervously. Despite his obvious nerves, he squared himself off to her and shook his head. "Make this easy on yourself. You're bleeding everywhere. Do you really think you're going to win?" he asked, reaching behind him slowly for what Andi could only assume was a gun.

Taking a deep breath she let it out slowly and squared herself off to him as well. "I've never really been one to make anything easy for myself," she answered with a smirk. It was funny to her how true that statement was. If she'd been one to do that, she wouldn't have been in this situation. She wouldn't have snooped at the contents of that cargo ship. She wouldn't have called Arty for help. Hell, if she had wanted to make things easy for herself, she likely would have accepted the offer to enlist in the Alliance Defense Federation when they sent Arty to collect her. It had been a smart move on their part. How they could have known the affect he had on her, she had no idea, but it had almost worked. There had been something in his eyes though, something that told her not to do it.

Man, how different her life would have been if she had taken the easy route even just once.

In retellings of this incident, Andi will tell you she has no idea how she did what she did. She's not even sure she remembers exactly what she did. But shots were fired, bullets were deflected telekinetically and the sole of her boot made contact with the man's chest all in a matter of seconds. She watched him carefully as he fell backwards onto the cargo bay floor and landed with a deep thud. She was still for a beat afterwards, afraid to even breath, and watched him intently. He didn't stir from where he lay and she relaxed a little, before turning her back to him and walking away.

She wasn't more than two steps away before she heard a rustle of clothing behind her and in seconds he was standing in front of her, his eyes blood shot and his face contorted in a snarl of pure rage. Before she knew it, he had both his hands around her throat and was lifting her into the air. "You think you're clever, bitch?" he asked, squeezing his hands just a little bit tighter.

As soon as she felt his fingers around her neck, she reached up and grabbed his wrists, trying desperately to pry his grasp from her. She struggled slightly, trying to conserve as much of the oxygen in her lungs as she could without giving up completely, but as he tightened his grip on her, she started to kick more violently. He didn't pay any attention to her flailing legs and let out a loud growl when her boot made contact with his privates. He loosened his grip enough for her to pull his hands from her and fall to the floor with a loud gasp.

Breaking free wasn't all she'd done in that moment. The pain she inflicted must have caused him to drop whatever mental wards his hand around his mind and Andi was able to glimpse something in his pysiology that would win this fight for her.

Landing on her feet, Andi had no time to hesitate and catch her breath. She jumped back up and pushed her palms into his chest as hard as she could, putting as much telekinetic force behind it as she could. The man flew back and landed at the end of the row of boxes they were standing on. He lay there for a half beat before slowly doubling over and crying out in pain. Andi stayed where she was, watching him intently as he curled in on himself, his blood shot eyes boring a hole into her. "Fucking cunt," he muttered as his face turned purple and he started convulsing.

Andi didn't turn away though. She didn't take her eyes off of him until he stopped moving, stopped breathing, and she was certain he was dead.

When that moment came and went, she allowed herself to fall into a sitting position on top of the boxes, still bleeding from cuts all over her body. She sat in silence for a moment, just starring at the lifeless form of the assassin, before reality hit her.

Her crew was dead.

Her attacker was dead.

But she wasn't. She'd fought back and she'd won.